The Monster You Know, or Rather, the Monster You Don't Know
by ElReyCiervo
Summary: It was a well-known fact that Nines was a dangerous individual. However, it was a lesser-known fact that Nines was not actually the most dangerous individual working at the DPD. Well, at least to the public. The DPD knew better. (more details listed in fic) #supernatural elements [Part 1/? of Otherworldly AU]


Disclaimer: I do not own Detroit: Become Human

Rating: T

Words: 3605

Some notes on this Otherworldly AU:

In this AU, people are aware that there are "otherworldly" things that exist in the world. They don't pay it too much attention though. They just kind of shrug and say, "Eh, I guess thing thing/this person is kinda freaky, ya know? What can you do?" Or, "Hey careful. There's a demon on that house on the corner."/ "Oh cool, thanks man." (It's like how most of the population acts about ghosts, demons, and the like."

Oh, and this is endgame RK1700 (Connor/Nines aka RK900) in this series. As of right now, though, it start off with just Connor & Nines, not Connor/Nines.

* * *

The Monster You Know, or Rather, the Monster You Don't Know

It was a well-known fact that Nines was a dangerous individual at face value.

He did not bother hiding who he was because he simply did not care what other people thought of him. There was a select amount of people whose opinion mattered to him, and they could be counted on one hand with room to spare. Everyone in the DPD knew the only people Nines truly cared about were as listed:

Two (2) tired detectives with foul mouths, one being of the fashion-lacking category and the other being of the cat-loving category.

One (1) short Asian woman who, bless her, always brought Nines thirium gummies from the corner store when their cat-loving detective became too much.

And lastly, one (1) brown-eyed RK800 detective who loved dogs more than, possibly, even himself.

It was a lesser-known fact that Nines was not the most dangerous individual working at the DPD. People tended to focus to much of their survival instinct attention fretting about Nines that they paid no heed to one particular observant person by his side.

Well, at least to the public.

The DPD knew better.

And this was the story of how one nosy mail courier was about to find this out.

* * *

In an age where paper mail was near obsolete and almost everything was sent digitally, Kevin was thankful he even still had a job. Even before the android revolution, jobs had been getting hard to come by. Now, he was glad to keep his. Although letters and documents could be sent electronically and be accessed by both androids and humans, most of what he delivered were packages that could not be digitized. As such, the only time he really visited this particular floor of the DPD was to drop off a package to Captain Fowler and occasional items to the Detectives. On occasion, one of the regular officers received an item or two—most of the time from civilians thanking them, they had told him.

He had begun to hate his job, if he had to be honest with himself. It was monotonous, barely anyone spared him a second glance, and it was tiring.

That was what he thought before he had seen the bright detective whose brown hair curled in a cute lock above his forehead. He had been delivering a package for Lieutenant Anderson when he had noticed the man. Kevin had been surprised when he offered him a greeting and started a brief conversation with him. The mail courier had been so confused, turning his head around the bull pen and then pointing an incredulous finger to himself in question. The brown-haired man had a sound that was like a little laugh, nodding his head to Kevin, which in turn revealed an LED on his temple.

An android? But he had seemed so human…

The laugh had quirked the man's (man, right? Or should Kevin have referred to this person with neutral pronouns? He knew androids didn't always stick with the gender they were made with.) lips into a lopsided smile, as if he still had not mastered the fully human way of smiling yet.

It had been the cutest thing Kevin had seen all day. _Oh god._

The android had introduced himself as Connor—yes, he had found out that Connor did use male pronouns—and that he was thankful that Kevin had arrived in a punctual manner (his words verbatim).

Before he could say anything more verbose that a little croak, the Lieutenant had slapped the tablet back into his hands, all signed in the appropriate places, and told him to have a good day or whatever (again, those words verbatim). Connor had bid him a nice day as well, but in a much kinder and formal manner.

After that meeting, Kevin looked forward to seeing Connor every time he had to go to that floor of the DPD to deliver anything.

Like now, for example.

He would deny anyone who accused him of powerwalking down the hallway—he was just happy to see a good detective who worked hard for the city, okay? He did a quick check of the two packages in his bag to make sure everything was in order, and because of this, he did not notice someone turning the corner. One step and he hit what felt to be a brick wall. He would have fallen to the ground if not for the hands that caught him by his arms. His head had collided with the person's chin fairly hard, so he kept his eyes screwed shut in order to stave away the pain for a few moments.

"Are you alright?" Wait a second, he knew that voice!

"Oh, man, thanks so much, Connor," he beamed as he opened his eyes. "I was just about to see—," he cut himself off when he realized that the man in front of him was not in fact Connor, but someone who looked incredibly like him.

_Oh Jesus_.

The RK900 known as Nines was almost Connor's double, only differences being the additional height of a couple of inches, a slightly broader face, the white jacket, the voice just a scant pitch deeper, and those cold, blue eyes. He was also infamous as the DPD's Terminator, from what Kevin's heard.

The human was acutely aware of the hands—which he's head could _rip apart tanks_—that were around his arms. He jolted and took a step back, away from Nines.

"Y-Yes!" Kevin stammered out, shivering as Nines kept staring at him. "Totally fine!"

The taller man hummed in the back of his throat—voice box?—as he looked Kevin up and down. Nines locked his gaze with him and oh God, why did Kevin feel like he was going to die? The poor human was frozen in place as Nines stepped to the side, finally taking those cold eyes off of him to glance at the opening at the end of the hallway.

He folded his arms behind his back. "Seeing Connor, are you?" He looked back at Kevin and offered a smile. Kevin could not help but zoom in to the peek of teeth (are those _pointed teeth? _He must be mistaken.) between the other's lips. "Apologies for the inconvenience. Because most of _my time_," and if that wasn't a touch possessive, "is spent in his company, I am aware that Connor appreciates punctuality. Best not to keep him waiting, yes?"

"Of course, of course," Kevin said, shuffling his way past the still-smirking man. He wouldn't say he ran away from the RK900, but he sure as hell didn't walk away from him.

Just as he was a few feet from the opening of the hall that would take him to the bullpen, he heard, "Oh, and excuse me?" Kevin turned around to see Nines, still with folded arms, looking at him. The human's focus shifted from Nines to the inky shadows that were deepening behind him. The light that had cast a long shadow behind him seemed to intensify it, shadow lengthening into a humanoid form that was much more distorted than it should have been. _This has to be some kind of optical illusion or stress hallucination, right? Right?_ Kevin's breath stilled in his chest, watching the shadow become lankier and less human. The head, which should have just been a more drawn-out form of Nines's own, bloated and twisted into something more animal…something with much more teeth—fangs, rather. Many more fangs that were grinning right at him. "Please inform Connor that _I_ sent you with my greetings, would you please?"

Kevin did not remember of he nodded, but he sure as hell booked it out of that hall as fast as his legs would take him. Even if he never had to see Nines again, Connor had to see him every day. The thought only pressed in his mind has he made his way to the Detective's desk.

He did notice that it was pretty empty, which was odd. The Captain's office was blacked out, probably for some important meeting, and none of the other officers' desks were occupied—sans Detective Reed who was just getting up to walk to the break room.

Lieutenant Anderson was also not present. Weird, considering he was always working with Connor, from what he had come to understand.

Connor turned away from the monitor from which he was interfacing to greet him. His smile was still a bit lopsided, though still warm as ever. "Good afternoon, Kevin. It is so good to see you again." He folded his hands in his lap. "I am assuming that you have something for me, or are you paying me visit? I do remember you telling me about your puppy the last time you were here. If possible, I do wish to hear any updates you may offer about her."

_Oh God, Connor is too sweet_, Kevin would have covered his heart with his two hands if not for needing them to dig through his bag. _Maybe…maybe I should help him. Nines sounded so possessive in the hall over Connor! What is he ends up hurting him one day? Connor doesn't deserve that_.

"It's a bit of both! Button has been the cutest thing lately, you wouldn't believe!" He perched on the corner of Connor's desk as he began to chat, but not before handing him his package from a local android center. Repairs maybe? Kevin wasn't privy to know the personal information of the things he delivered, but maybe the cute android next to him would tell him eventually…He was, however, privileged to listen to Connor as he told Kevin about Sumo, the Lieutenant's Saint Bernard, and how he had dropped 2.3 pounds of unnecessary fat and gained 3% of muscle of the course of the last month and a half. He also said some other things, but Kevin had to confess that he liked listening to Connor's voice a bit more than what he was actually saying. The human was paying enough attention that he nodded and peppered in the appropriate "uh-huh's" when needed. That voice was a delight to listen to, a slight natural rasp backing every word, and those lips were so pretty as well. Kevin wondered what they would look like wrapped around his…

"Are you cold?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere.

Kevin hid his startle well, although, perhaps not well enough from the little quirk on Connor's lips. "I'm sorry, what'd you say?" _Was I really __**that**__ divorced from the conversation? I know he's good-looking, but you're better than this Kevin, God_.

Connor pointed a finger to the mail courier's arms, which Kevin now realized he had been rubbing up and down to fight the chill in the room. When had the temperature dropped? _Okay, I must be really out of it to not even notice how cold I was. Get. It. Together! _

"I asked if you were cold. My sensors indicate that you have been shivering for the past fifteen seconds. Would you like something warm to drink, perhaps? I am sure no one would mind if I took something from the breakroom for you."

_Wow, he cares so much. And pays so much detail, oh my gosh. I need to have him_, he was practically gushing to himself, but could anyone blame him? The freckled Detective was just the perfect boyfriend material! Connor, with his caring words; Connor, with his attention to detail; Connor, with his cute need to always not more (especially about dogs and other animals)…it made a person wonder: just how was Connor even single in the first place? There had been plenty of girls and guys that Kevin had known in college that would have practically thrown themselves at Connor. And if Kevin was going to be one of them, well..

_Oh hey, was I always this close on his desk?_ What was once a desk-length between the two of them had now been reduced to a tablet's length.

He rubbed at his arms again, trying to get the hairs that were standing on-end under his long-sleeved shirt to go down. "That is so generous of you, but no, I'm okay. Thank you very much. Can you tell me more about Sumo?" Staring at those doe-brown eyes of his, Kevin would do anything to keep Connor talking. "He sounds like such a cool dog. I've been trying to get Button to learn some tricks, so I'd like to hear if you or Lieutenant Anderson had any particular methods training Sumo."

Connor lit up in the way a person does when talking about something they are passionate about. Kevin loved to see the man's eyes glow in delight, so he kept asking a few more animal-related questions. If his hand started to wander a bit closer to the Detective, then hey, what happened, happened. He maintained eye contact like how a good, attentive person would, and he had no care in the world that he'd been missing about every other world that came out of Connor's mouth because _why the hell were his eyes so freaking beautiful?_ Kevin could stare at them all day—and he thought he kind of was, but sue him, whatever—and the more he did, the more he wanted to stay here.

The detective welcomed all the questions Kevin had, and in turn, began to ask questions of his own. Kevin was all too eager to answer as long as he could maintain eye contact with those doe eyes.

_Was he born here in Detroit,_ was the first question.

Sure was. Born and raised with four other siblings, but he truly only liked one of them.

_Do you want to do anything other than deliver the mail_, came the next question.

Of course! He liked serving the DPD and the city by being a mail courier, but he's always wanted to be a stay-at-home husband, if he had to be honest.

_What were some qualities he might look for in a prospective partner_, was the third question.

Oh man, well, someone kind to him, definitely. Someone he could talk to, someone that was witty. You know, someone that he could have a good time with and be safe with. Someone he could give himself to.

Kevin paused for a moment. _Wait, I've never told anyone about that before…_

"Someone you could give yourself to," Connor seemed to ponder this for a moment. He looked at him up and down quickly—much different than the terrifying once-over that Nines had given him in the hall—which Kevin assumed that the android has scanned him or something. But that was okay, because Connor was just so sweet that he wouldn't have meant anything bad, he just knew it. (He didn't take notice of Connor's shadow darkening to an impossible black under his desk. Doesn't notice it curling and morphing under him, something with many tendrils and numerous eyes clinging close to the ground.)

He couldn't suppress the shiver that was more like a shudder, though. But that was okay…right?

The next thing that came out of Connor's mouth made Kevin still.

"Just how much," the words coming out of those lips did no match that demure, sweet smile, "would you be willing to _give _of yourself, Kevin? How much would you allow the other person to _take_?"

Kevin licked his lips, wanting to tell Connor everything as long as that someone was him. Instead he cleared his throat and said, "Oh, you know, 50/50. I mean, that's how all partnerships go, haha." God, why the fuck was it so cold in here? "Hey, by the way, has the temperature dropped in here or something? It's, like, pretty cold in here. The heating isn't broken, is it?"

"My sensors are of the highest caliber, so I assure you that the temperature of the room has neither increased nor decreased a single degree since you have been here. Perhaps a sudden chill? I am 99.99% certain that it will pass in just a moment.

There was that lopsided smile again, so endearing. But that did not take away Kevin's welling anxiety.

_Jesus, why does it feel like I'm being watched?_ He felt something nudge his knee, and he turned to find himself gotten even closer to Connor than before, now only a stapler's width between them. He froze.

"Is there something wrong?" the caring android next to him asked, but Kevin felt as if all the breath had been sucked out of him. Before he could say anything, he felt something brush his shoulder, making him whip around, gasping, to try and find what it was.

It was nothing.

He turned to see that candy-sweet smile again and Connor's hands sitting passively in his lap. Kevin feels as if the whole DPD is watching them, eyes from every corner in the bullpen, but there is no one here other than himself and Connor, the kind doe-eyed Detective. The Detective who asked him about his puppy, Button; the Detective who wanted to know all his personal details, preferences and all; the Detective who asked him if he was okay and wouldn't he want help leaving the building because he looked quite ill.

He stuttered out an apology and jerked from his seat on Connor's desk, offering an explanation that he forgot he had another place to deliver to soon.

Kevin declined Connor's offer to escort him out the building.

His flight from the bullpen couldn't have been sooner.

As he passed Nines down the hall—who looked to have been coming back from wherever he had originally gone—he made eye contact with the Rk900, and he had a sudden and startling realization. Kevin would much rather be in the presence of the sharp-toothed, glacier-eyed, military-grade android (who, again, could rip apart tanks and cars for fun, if he wanted) than the doe-eyed Detective whom he had left…

The same Detective that he felt would have devoured him alive—and not in the sexual way, either.

* * *

Connor watched with a high degree of amusement as Kevin fled—or perhaps scampered away—from the bullpen. He sighed as he adjusted his tie and cleaned the lint that Kevin's filthy pants had left on his desk. It was a rather simple task to reorient himself to get back to work, but it was a harder one to calm down his Other traits. "Such a shame," he said to himself. "He made such wonderful conversation about Button and animals, too. I do suppose he will not be frequenting here as often as of today." He paused for a moment as a thought crossed his processor. He muttered, "I am still curious how much he would have given…how much could he have pushed himself…?"

"Are you torturing the poor civil servant, Eights?" The sound of his nickname coming from Nines was pleasing to Connor's audio processors.

His successor's arrival was one he heard before he saw. He turned his chair to the taller RK who was walking into the bullpen. Even from this distance, Connor could detect a peek of teeth between Nine's lips. "Welcome back, Nines," he rested his chin on his hand, elbow propped on his desk. "Were you waiting until he left to return?"

Nines made a humming noise in the back of his voice box, and Connor watched as he perched himself where Kevin had been before. "Even with my limited social relations program, I am confident in saying that it is impolite to answer a question with a question."

Typical Nines. "Point taken. To answer your query, no, I am not torturing anyone."

"So, my optics were deceiving me when I noticed that mail courier appearing like he wanted to urinate himself then?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

Nines raised an eyebrow and leveled him with a knowing look.

Connor relented. "I…_may_ have accidently let my Other traits bleed through a degree too much. It was not my intention. In me defense, I have been putting up with his flirting for the past few weeks." He crossed his leg over his knee and made a click of displeasure from his own voice box, "I am not an investigative android for nothing; his interest in me did nothing to hinder his—to borrow words from Hank—'creepy, sleazy' nature. I was beginning to grow quite sick of it."

Something dark flashed in Nines's eyes as he frowned. "I wish you would have informed me of this situation sooner, Connor. I could have taken care of that nuisance for you." The protectiveness prompted a short string of code to zip through his systems. This one something Connor had come to understand as a warm feeling. A warm string of code.

"Oh, I do not believe that is a problem anymore, Nines."

Everyone in the DPD knew that Nines was a dangerous individual, a Terminator in a white jacket. Terrifying, powerful, and intimidating. This was all understood as a fact. What was a lesser-known fact was that Nines was not actually the most dangerous person working at the DPD. Oh no.

Connor was the menace people should look out for.

* * *

"Eights, where is the Lieutenant?"

"Lieutenant Anderson left approximately fifteen minutes ago because he was—and I quote—'sick and tired of the creepy weirdo mail guy getting all in your space, so I'm gonna leave for thirty minutes at the very damn least so I don't have to see this mess.' He then informed me not to kill Kevin and to call him if necessary."

"I am rather impressed by your restraint."

"Why thank you, Nines."

* * *

Published: 3/24/19

A/N 1: Okay! So, I've been working on this for a while and I'm very glad to have it done! Please let me know what you think! There's going to be more Otherworldly stuff to come in the future. :D (I have a have more otherworldly AU stuff on my tumblr: **elreyciervo**)

A/N 2:If it wasn't clear, Kevin is a mix of being flirty but being super weird and creepy about it. Like, he thought _Nines_ was possessive, but all I could think about while writing this was "Connor is a great guy, Kevin, not someone to suck you dick!"

A/N 3: Also, Kevin getting more and more desperate to just do anything as long as he could be with Connor was a mix of his weirdness and Connor's Otherworldly traits. One of Connor's—let's call them abilities—is that he can lure and manipulate people even more than before. Think of a siren luring in people only to, well, devour them. Connor wouldn't eat people literally, but, well…we'll see what happens in the future.


End file.
